Kitty Cries
by Little Bassoonist
Summary: Kitty Bennet, perhaps the most overlooked of the Bennet sisters, weeps as another one of her sisters becomes engaged before she does.


Jane and Elizabeth Bennet giggled incessantly while the younger brushed her elder sister's hair.

"Lizzy," she enquired, a smile permanently etched on her face, "can you die of happiness?"

"Oh, Jane," Lizzy cooed. "You have waited far too long for this. If only I could see myself as happy as you are. Perhaps Mr. Collins has a cousin." That comment sent the two back into fits of laughter.

In the next room, Catherine, head cradled in her soft hands, sat weeping in her bedroom with her elbows propped on her knees. Forehead pressed gently against the windowpane, tears streaked down rosy cheeks and moonshine-lit glass. Mary, now sharing a room with her younger sister, observed the sight silently, holding back the urge to explain the pointlessness and draining feeling of sobbing. (Having wasted her own time crying over her own problems and difficulties in life concerning Mr. Collins's failure to notice her, the middle Bennet daughter had become very familiar with the effects of heartbreak.) Instead, she held her tongue while Kitty let her pain seep away in the form of tiny tears sliding down the window.

Catherine, Mary thought to herself, it will do you no good. To appear a strong, independent young woman, you must believe you are, and you can never believe that if you spend your nights weeping over men. How can you convince them if you cannot convince yourself? I know the pain stings; to watch someone you love, a dear sister, have the man you desire. Bu it will not last forever. If only there was something I could do to help you, Kitty.

Of course, because Kitty did not possess the talent of telepathy, these thoughts remained private, as Mary could not find any way to convey her sentiments properly and appropriately.

Through the walls, the elder Miss Bennets' laughter could be heard, sending more tears to stream down Catherine's face in loud, awkward sobs. Why was it that no man ever noticed her? Why was she so completely overlooked, when Lydia had already gotten married? Kitty was older than Lydia, too, to make matters worse. Older, more sophisticated, and (in her opinion) much prettier. Why, then, did Mrs. Forrester not invite her to Brighton to spend time with the officers? Why, then, did more of the soldiers choose to dance with her sister? Why, then, was Lydia, the silliest Bennet girl in Hertfordshire who was known for her tendency to drink too much and think too little, married before the rest of them?

It made no sense to Kitty. She recalled all the times they had spent together, giggling and having fun at balls. Had she overlooked some magic quality that Liddy possessed and she did not? Was something about seeing her tipsy sixteen-year-old sister dancing with every officer she could find that Mr. Wickham found attractive? (And she always considered him fancying Lizzy, instead.) What made her younger sister more eligible to be married than herself? Perhaps it was her resemblance to their mother that everyone always commented on. After all, Mrs. Bennet was one of their greatest role models, even when she did not act totally sensible.

Though Kitty did not find herself really attracted to Mr. Wickham much more than admiration, surly not the love that Lydia felt, she was extremely jealous. And watching Jane and Mr. Bingley, a man to whom she only thought of as rich and handsome, nothing more, only fed the burning. Perhaps if the regiments returned, she might find herself well again, but until then, she did not want to see any more couples in love, unless they directly involved her.

Growing tired, she let out on last, long sob, and barely noticed Mary stand up and approach, resting a hand on her shaking shoulders. Normally, Kitty might have shrugged it off, but she was too tired to waste the effort. The sisters stayed silent for a long time, letting their mutual feeling of rejection fill the quiet space between them. After an immeasurable amount of time listening to Kitty's fading cries, Mary dared to speak.

"It will be alright, dear Kitty. Someday your prince will come."


End file.
